


A Monster's Mask

by VSSAKJ



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, High Chaos (Dishonored), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VSSAKJ/pseuds/VSSAKJ
Summary: The first time Samuel Beechworth went to sea, he went to forget a woman.





	A Monster's Mask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/gifts).

The first time Samuel Beechworth went to sea, he went to forget a woman.

He’d all but forgotten what love or lust felt like by the time he watched the Royal Protector slink out of the sewers beneath Coldridge Prison. It was the first time he’d seen the broken man with empty eyes, who looked like he’d been chewed up by the worst of the sea’s creatures and spat back out like shredded meat.

He’d forgotten the intensity of attention that attraction demanded; forgotten the way it would fill his nights with daft dreams and his days with distracted imaginings. As he watched the shadow of Corvo Attano blink into the city streets and disappear, he settled in to wait with the company of lapping waves and his own increasingly lurid thoughts.

He’d forgotten the ways his mind would twist his convictions to keep justifying his fascination. He was not—and had never been—a violent man, and liked to believe there was always a better option. Despite the admiral assuring him that a little bloodshed was always part of revolution, he began to catch himself masking a shiver every time the assassin set foot on his boat.

Of course Corvo’s fury was justified; they’d murdered the woman he’d sworn to protect and kidnapped her only daughter. Then they’d framed him for the conspiracy, tortured him, and wrested his own face away from him. Now he was nothing but a mask in the night, dispensing his justice—not revenge—in the name of Empress Jessamine and young miss Emily.

It wasn’t simply justified: it made _sense_.

The evening of Lady Boyle’s masquerade was when Samuel decided the mask itself was responsible for Corvo’s degradation from Royal Protector to monster. That one evening, he was free to wear anything he wanted to, cloaked in the safety of a masquerade ball where no one was recognisable. He could’ve been the self he’d been before the revolution started, and instead he chose to don that horrible face to murder the whole of high society. They weren’t good people, but Samuel winced as he lingered, listening to the rising tide of screams curl into the star-dotted sky, muffled only by the intermittent booms of fireworks. No one deserved that.

It had all gone quiet by the time he heard approaching footsteps. The splash of water in the base of his boat washed pink as the monster settled into his usual place onboard, and Samuel swallowed the words he might have said to instead paddle away in silence. He was still wearing the mask—Samuel almost never saw him without it now. The fireworks had faded away to nothing.

The day the Loyalists turned on their beast, they handed Samuel the bottle of poison and told him to take care of things. His heart thudded in his ears as he stood over the unconscious man, wishing he could separate the clashing feelings within his breast and commit to one course of action. He knew his choice was the wrong one the moment he made it, but he’d forgotten all the idiotic things temptation could make you do.

He slid a thumb beneath the cold metal mask, inching it inside until it rested on Corvo’s lower lip. Still as death itself, Samuel waited until he felt warm air against his finger. Still alive. Disgusted with himself, he withdrew, shook his head, and shoved the boat out. If it came back to haunt him, he’d blame the Loyalists for asking a good man to do a murderer’s job.

The last time he saw Corvo Attano was on the rain-soaked rocks leading up to Dunwall Tower. As Samuel raised his pistol to fire a warning shot, he watched the light of it flash in Corvo’s eyes—it was the first time he’d seen surprise in them, he thought. It had been a long time since he’d been able to look.

The second time Samuel Beechworth went to sea, he went to forget a man.


End file.
